Killing Loneliness
by Depraved Doll
Summary: When everyone else is gone and it’s just the two of them how do Dean and Sam cope after Dean’s resurrection. Wincest,


_**Killing Loneliness**_

_**Summary- **__When everyone else is gone and it's just the two of them how do Dean and Sam cope after Dean's resurrection. Wincest,_

_**Disclaimer- **__They do not belong to me, they belong to Kripke if I owned Sam and Dean I'm sure it would be on a bit later than 9 if still on air at all. I am just borrowing,_

A/N- _This is going to following certain parts of series 4 that were cut short or left open, I'm not sure how long it's going to be yet, but I hope you stick around for the ride. _

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**Prologue- Lazarus Rising**_

The room's silent as the grave, something needs to be said but whatever it is gets lost in the backs of throats dry as bone. What do you say to the person who sold themselves to hell for you, what do you say to the person you gave up your soul for without a moment's hesitation? The silence eats away at itself, they sit like statues, separate and frozen in time for all eternity, eyes move to find a form so familiar and yet so estranged, Sam stares at his brother, checking for any obvious new wounds. He's not sure what to say to the person who saves him time and time again but that he can never save in return. He wants to ask questions that he knows he shouldn't, wants to hear answers that no one should ever know, wants to hear of the things that shouldn't be known, equally he doesn't.

He feels tears spill from his eyes because he can't strangle the words out of his mind, he hates himself because all he ever does is fail his brother. He stands, walks to the window and leaves the imprint of his fist in the plaster of the motel room wall. The blood trickles from scratch like wounds scattered all over soft flesh, for a moment it stops the constant beat from pounding in his head. He'd tear the place apart if he could, the room, the motel, the town, the world, it wouldn't change anything but it might stop him from crawling in his skin for a few seconds.

There's a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs away from it, and he can feel the confusion on Dean's face, Sam just wants to scream, he hates that he couldn't save Dean, he hates what he did when Dean was gone, how things will never be like they were. He turns, there are walls behind his brother's eyes, desperately hiding anything and everything that could hurt Sam further, he swears he can hear the elder's heart in his breath and the tattoo beneath his shirt burns in a way he can't comprehend. There are arms around him, so tight it might kill him, he doesn't care, he clings back as though one of them will fall apart if he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," it hangs in the air, broken and defeated because when Sam looks at Dean he see's all the pain he must have gone through and he knows that ultimately he's the cause of it, all the pain his elder brother has ever felt if you trace it back, you get to Sam. "I'm so sorry Dean," his grip tightens and he can't let go, Dean's hands wind into his brothers hair.

"Sammy," it breaks Sam's heart to hear it, "it's ok," essentially it's anything but, Sam's hands move to his brothers face, stroking, gripping, Dean gently takes his hands into those of his own. Sam just hates himself even more because he should be being there for Dean right now not the other way around. "Look at me Sam," he all but shouts and the younger obeys, "I'm fine," there's a flicker of something in Dean's eyes, it comes and goes so fast but Sam catches it, it tell him that his brother is anything but and he grips him tight once again.

"I missed you," it's the only thing the elder Winchester has ever heard that makes his heart jump into his throat. It's the first time he hasn't held up his hand and said with all his male bravado 'no chick flick moments' instead his eyes just fill with tears and he grips his brother and tells him that he missed him too. Sam's hand on the back of his neck chases away all the demons that pull and scream at the edges of Dean's mind and he falls into it all too willingly. He's not sure what he's doing, something deep inside of him burns and he grabs hold of Sam slamming him up against the wall. The younger groans softly and Dean's nails dig into his flesh but he needs it like a junkie needs a fix.

"Sammy," the names little more than a desperate whisper and barely audible, he stares into his brothers eyes, caresses his face, "it was worth it," the elder explains with tears in his eyes and before Sam actually has time to process that he's talking about going to Hell Dean's lips are on his. The younger's eyes widen but he doesn't refuse entry to the tongue that pushes past his lips, even if he had wanted to he couldn't deny Dean anything. The kiss is desperate and harsh, teeth lips and tongues all playing a part and Dean's hands are gripping and scratching at any flesh they find. Sam gives as good as he gets.

There are tears falling from Dean's eyes, squeezed tightly shut, he grips harder onto Sam's shoulders and tries to hide how weak he has become from the one person who has only ever seen his strength. Sam buries all the defeat he feels in the scratches he leaves on Dean's back. Shirts fall and Sam's hand runs over the raised surface of a large scar on Dean's upper arm Sam doesn't remember it and the reality of everything comes crashing down. The younger pulls away and turns his head to look at the scar, a handprint burnt into his brother's flesh.

"I don't know," Dean whispers before Sam has even voiced the question, Sam just places his hand over the imprint just below his brother's shoulder. Sam's phone rings and they part as though they had just past each other in the street, strangers in a hotel room, each giving everything as though it's not enough. The younger stares at the name illuminated on the screen of the phone, suddenly it's just all too much, he's tired of the people in their lives choking them, it's time for him and Dean now, no one else. He throws his phone across the room, it stops ringing broken, shattered on the floor and Dean just looks at him, because he knows his brother has slipped with his absence.

Their eyes meet from across the room, Sam just slowly removes his shirt, there's scars Dean doesn't recognise, more than were there the last time he saw his baby brother. They stand fixed to the ground, empty and yet full of every emotion they were sure they had lost along the way. There are things Sam thinks he should tell Dean but he won't, they'll come out in time and that's enough to make himself feel at ease. Dean's the first to move, he traces a scar just beneath Sam's ribcage and he knows that someone else has been looking after Sam, cleaning his wounds; it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, because he's the one who takes care of his baby brother.

He hits Sam and he doesn't know why but he feels a betrayal in him, Sam accepts it because he feels the truth of it all in his bones, he lunges for Dean and they tumble to the floor Dean groans beneath his brother's weight. It's all that they know in fists and blood and tears and sweat, in the desperate kisses lost in between the unimaginable pain. Sam holds his brothers face and his nails bite into soft flesh Dean flips them over and they find each other's lips once again. Dean can't take looking at the scars on his baby brother from fights he wasn't there to save him from. Dean can't handle that his scars have seemingly disappeared from his flesh, the ones gained from saving his brother, gained from play fights and merely childish stupidity.

He grips to Sam for the strength that he's lost and they're just looking for something neither one holds at the moment. Dean wants everything to be ok, to be as it was before he left; he wants all the little lies to dance across his skin and for his mind to accept them as though they were morphine for all the pain that still resides in him. Sam wants to undo the things he's done, to write them down and watch Dean's reaction to it, he wants to run away, to have Dean hold him and tell him it's ok.

They just settle for the punches and the kisses that sooth them away. If they could go back to the beginning they know they'd do it all differently. Tears stream down Sam's face and he can't stop them no matter how much he tries, he can't even begin to explain to Dean how much he missed him, how deeply he is scarred by having watched the most important person in his life be ripped apart. Everything with Ruby fades in his mind, as stupid and desperate as it was, she could never replace Dean.

There's something on Sam's shoulder, thin lines raised from the skin, Dean doesn't know what it is, his hand traces it and makes the assumption that it's just another few scars marring his baby brother's flesh he thinks nothing more of it and places a desperate kiss on his brothers lips, tongues meeting ferociously and it's wrong but it's so good, Dean grips so hard that it hurts but it's perfect. They fumble towards something they don't quite understand, clothes fall fast and the bed is found hard, it's everything the strangers they have met on their way have accused them of and it's so right for them.

They come together with force and such a gentleness they have never possessed with anyone else and they don't know what to make of it but they don't stop. They lose themselves inside of each other and it's what they both need so desperately. There's things they won't say right now but this is everything they need to say, they'll be nights of restless slumber, of punches and anger but right now everything seems perfect for the first time in a long time. Everything Sam wants to forget about disappears and the demons seem far enough away from Dean that Hell seems like nothing more than a bad dream.

They kiss and Dean runs his hands through Sam's sweat dampened hair trying to bring him closer than physically possible. They pull apart eyes staring into eyes, looking for answers and questions and just the image of one another that has been lost for far too long. In the aftermath of the passion and the love and the lust, Sam just allows his forehead to rest against Dean's own and the silence is perfect.

There's a knock at the door, they ignore it but it just gets louder and more persistent, Sam all but growls and kisses Dean's lips tenderly before standing, slipping on his jeans and heading towards the door, Dean's eyes fall on his brothers well muscled back and his heart is so close to breaking but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips despite it. The door slams and whatever was said the elder Winchester will never know.

"Who was it?" Dean asks, the younger just bites the inside of his lip and runs a hand through his hair, he sits on the end of the bed, and thinks for a few seconds.

"No one important," The elder reaches out, traces raised black letters on Sam's back, styled similarly to old English text.

"When did this happen?" He asked continuing to trace each letter; Sam just continued to stare forward.

"Two days after I buried you," and he bit his lip to keep the break in his voice from slipping out. The tattoo was just a name, _'Dean' _printed forever in his baby brother's flesh and it meant the world and more to Dean.

"Thank you," it's just that and Sam doesn't understand why his brother is thanking him but he nods in acceptance anyway. The younger lies back on the bed, stares up at his brother, runs his thumb over his cheekbone.

"I'm sorry Dean," and it's not just said because he couldn't save his brother, or because he feels responsible for him being dragged into the pit in the first place, it's for everything he did whilst Dean was gone that he knows his brother won't be proud of. It's because he isn't who he used to be, and neither is Dean.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_Ok well there is the first part, I hope it wasn't too bad, please leave a review and hopefully you'll return for the next instalment. Thank you for reading. _


End file.
